Your Food is Getting Cold
by Sarabibliomania
Summary: "You've tortured me for months. Starved me. Cut me. Watched me bleed. You killed me. You killed Cas …" "But you were brought back." "It's the thought that counts."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is a snippet I wrote that was loosely based off of a fanfiction I wrote but took on a life of its own. It was just an idea that got away from me a bit but I love it anyway. I'm not sure if I'll write more to it but for now here it is. This is a character I created myself that Dick Roman speaks to. Their relationship is up to interpretation.

I own nothing.

"Ah welcome."  
Dick smiled with the same smirk that always only pulled at one side of his lips and never touched his eyes.  
"Thank you, that'll be all."  
The Levitations dropped their grip from my arms and my legs gave out beneath me and I hit the floor in a collision of flesh against marble that almost made me retch.

"Would you like some help?"  
I barely raised my head and his smirk widened somewhat with an edge of humour to his lips that hardened in his eyes. I stared back at him, sick heated in my stomach and on my tongue but it was a pointless threat. There was nothing for me to vomit.  
"Please. Sit."  
He gestured to the table with the clean white cloth tucked over its edges and silver dishes standing out on the cover. My insides trembled and I sank what remained of my fingernails into my leg with their almost bite dull against the numbed shreds of my skin. He stared at me for a moment before walking over to one of the chairs and pulling it out from the table with a rasp with a silent message for me to sit. I pressed my hands against the marble and cautiously stood, a biting sensation gripping at my knees and threatening to force me to them again. I stumbled over to the seat opposite from the one he gestured to and fell into the cushioned surface of its seat, my fingers clawed into the sides of it to keep myself upright. He sat down in the seat across from me and started to pour himself a glass of water from a crystallized jug.  
"You must be thirsty." He leaned over to set the glass in front of me and fell back into his seat with an expected look. I stared at the glass and my mouth went even dryer like ash had coated it and chipped away its insides.  
"Drink." I reached out for the glass and the coldness of it burned against my blood stained palm. My fingers shook on the weight and anticipation as I raised it to my lips before turning my wrist and letting the glass fall and shatter on the floor. Water doused my pant leg and I nearly choked on the dryness of my tongue. He grinned.  
"Well that was a waste." I stared back at him, not dropping my gaze and his person almost hazy under the thirst and hunger that had gradually begun to dull my senses.  
"Well if you're not going to drink you might as well eat."  
He gestured to the plates with his fork but I refused to drop my gaze.  
"I'm not hungry."  
The words were barely audible and broke raw inside my throat. He laughed and my stomach twisted with a nausea that made me dizzy.  
"It's been nearly four days since we fed you. And even then it was … well …"  
He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence as I already knew the conditions of the food they had feed me.  
"So please … I encourage you. Eat."  
He cut his own fork and knife into the slab of meat on his plate and my tongue nearly scarred itself on the hunger that assaulted it. He ate in near silence with the only sounds of his knife and fork against his plate and the nauseating sound of him chewing.  
"You're really not doing yourself any favours." He poured himself a glass of water and drank deeply from it, his Adam's apple swollen in the move.  
"I offer you food, the least you can do is accept it."  
I nearly laughed. After all this time, after all the months of letting me hang by my bloody wrists in a pitch black wound with my wounds coated in salt and he expected kindness from me.  
"Your hatred for me is so severe that you would rather starve to death then accept this token of kindness?"  
Yes.  
"Why?"  
A laugh managed to escape from my lips, almost inhuman as if I had long ago forgotten what it felt like to laugh. To smile. To know what could cause either of them.  
"You've tortured me for months. Starved me. Cut me. Watched me bleed. You killed me. You killed Cas …" I froze on the name and whatever bubble of strength broke the words from my lips crackled and died.  
"But you were brought back."  
He picked up on the fragile flaw with smugness and smirked back at me as if daring me to question his logic.  
"It's the thought that counts."  
The words broke over my cracked lips and he shook his head in amused disbelief before digging back into his platter. I twisted my fingers in the table cloth, my dirtied skin in contrast against the white sheet and licked my lips as dizziness softened the edges of my head with the threat of me passing out.  
"Your food is getting cold."  
He gestured to the plate before me, the meat oozed against the glass of it and the vegetables my head wasn't clear enough to name steaming with a scent that tore my throat apart in hunger.  
"I have to ask."  
He paused from eating, waiting patiently for me to continue.  
"Why the change in scenery? Frozen dungeon for months on end now a fancy dinner? Your tactics don't make sense."  
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and carefully folded it so that the edges carefully met.  
"I thought a change in pace might do us good. Clearly torturing you was not doing any good so I thought I'd tried a new approach. A person can only endure so much before it starts to effect their mind. Their body. As it so clearly has done to you."  
He grinned at his own joke. As if it had an effect on me. As if it could.  
"Clearly flattery was not included." He laughed and again pressed his napkin to his lips before refolding it back to its original set.  
"Your sense of humour remains. Along with your stupidity."  
He raised his eyes back to mine, waiting for me to react to his words.  
"My stupidity?" I fell to his bait, my curiosity peaked.  
"You think that you can win this. That by sheer force of will you can somehow achieve something. Hold out for something that isn't there."  
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hardened in his own self importance.  
"That you can beat me. But you can't. And you won't."  
He sat back in his chair, snapping his napkin open and spreading it across his lap like the last moment hadn't happened. Like it was in the past and thus didn't exist. He dug into one of the platters and scooped a steaming vegetable onto his plate and dug his fork into the dishevelled shape.  
"How can you be so sure?" My words were stronger somehow. Louder in the room and frozen like they made an impact in the air. "What?" He raised his eyes to me, his eyebrows raised as if he heard me incorrectly. "How can you be so sure that I won't beat you? You've tortured me for months … and I haven't broken. You took everything from me. Sam, Dean, Castiel, Bobby … my son. My life. And I haven't given up. We took down Lucifer. Lilith. The Mother. The apocalypse. Hundreds of Demons and thousands of monsters with more worth then you scrounge up with your stupid little smirk. Even if you kill me. Even if I don't beat you. You can't break me. And you won't."  
I swallowed hard, suddenly exhausted and my pulse tense in my temple. He stared back at me, at a sudden loss for words and a flicker of something beneath the coldness of his eyes that looked like anger broken with doubt. He forced a smile that in a different way didn't meet his eyes and pushed his chair back from the table. He stepped around it with his footsteps loud on the marble and I sat frozen in my seat with uncertainty of what he was going to do next. I kept my gaze lowered so I could only see him there from the corner of my vision as he stopped next to my chair. He carefully reached out and his finger brushed against a strand of hair over my shoulder and jostled it back against my ear. I resisted the urge to pull away in revulsion and he dropped his hand so the hair fell back against my collar. Fingers suddenly clenched around my throat and I was shoved back and from the chair stumbled under my feet until I felt glass shatter against my head. My vision screamed red and I felt the shards back against my spine as my fingers weakly tried to pry his from my neck and my boots poorly tried to find grip against the broken glass for some support. His nails hardened into my skin and my head began to grow dizzy under the lack of air.  
"You're wrong. You think I've taken everything but you have so much more to lose. So much more to break and bleed. You can hide behind your jokes and your lies and your stupidity. But I will break you and I will kill you."  
His fingers ripped themselves from my neck and I collapsed onto the floor, gasping and retching at the bitter sick broken in my throat. I swallowed trembling and panted so my head spun and everything felt uneven and out of place. His shoes crunched on the glass and he nudged me with the tip in the ribs until I rocked onto my back, still gasping and choking on sick. He stared down at me, no smirk to his lips and no emotion to his eyes but a cold hard look to his face. He turned and started to walk away, the glass still crackled and shattered under his shoes.  
"Kill me!"  
He froze and I continued to gasp, the words still burning in my throat in my effort to say them and their feel heavy in the air. He turned back to me, taking me in as if I had suddenly taken on a new shape he couldn't name.  
"Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I won't give it to you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not never. So you might as well kill me."  
I gasped around the words, my legs unevenly splayed over the broken glass and my shirt tangled over my breasts.  
"Not yet."  
His words had their own sense of humour to them again. A joke he made up that only he understood.  
"I'm not done with you yet."  
He nodded back over at the table where the food still lay and the chair lay fallen over the tile. "Your food is getting cold."  
He turned his back to me and crunched over the glass and to the door which he jerked open and closed behind him with a sense of an forbidding click.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm sorry it took so long to write another chapter. I thought I clicked "complete" but apparently didn't and after someone pointed it out I never had time until now to write it out. But here it is! It's based on a larger story with some details changed so I will only be doing the Dick and Kate scenes which means I have about three or four chapters left to write. It's not the most conventional relationship but I have a soft spot for it. Enjoy!

The rsssp of metal against metal carved irritatingly into my ears as I ran the flat piece of broken handlebar against the gradually growing sharper shower curtain, the jagged pieces of its remains precariously hidden under the bed. It was sharp but too wide, too rounded so it would slip right out of my hands when I came to use it. Better to have bloody hands and a weapon then no weapon at all.  
The door handle creaked as it opened and I quickly stashed the pieces under the edge of the mattress, trying not to jostle the pieces as I did so. The door opened further and Dick stepped from behind it, a nauseatingly yellow tie tucked neatly between the folds of his suit jacket and giving his eyes and unnatural tint.  
"A visit from Dick himself. I'm honoured."  
Sarcasm dripped off my tongue as he closed the door behind him, smirking slightly as he took note of my continued pattered to get in the first word. It was a small victory but a victory nonetheless.  
"You should really invest in some activities of some sort. A ping pong table or pinball. I almost actually prefer the torture at least it was something to do. A ball to play with at the least ..."  
His hand shot out of his pocket, a blue and yellow ball a quick blur in the air as I reacted and caught it, feeling a spasm in my wrist at the fast action my body still was getting used to again. He grinned, tucking his hands back into his pockets and walking over to the table where the remains of my breakfast still lay. Toast and jam on the side with eggs and bacon crudely set into a smiley face that made me cringe when I ate it. He delicately picked up a piece of burnt bacon I hadn't eaten and chewed on it thoughtfully.  
"How's it going Kate?"  
He asked cheerfully, his hands clasped in front of him, one of his knees bent to rest his foot on the chair and the other stretched next to it in an overtly relaxed pose.  
"Well ... I'm still your prisoner if that's what you mean."  
He laughed like it was a joke, staring down at his hands like it was a clever piece of humor that he needed to take a moment to indulge in.  
"But you're in better conditions then you were."  
He pointed it out, glancing back up, his hands open as if pleading the point.  
"You have a bed to sleep in, food, drink, books to read. Though ..."  
He turned to the pile of books on the table next to them and picking a book and turning it over in his hands to read the back, the words "The Divine Comedy" visible over the curved back of the chair.  
"...They may be outside of your range of intelligence."  
He mulled this over, eyebrows creased as he squinted at the words then set it back on the pile in presumed lack of interest.  
"I'll have Edgar send up some colouring books. You like those, right?"  
I turned away from him, not taking the bait for another comment and already too rehearsed on how it would go. Where the conversation would lead until he got tired of taunting me and left me alone with a sense of victory and satisfaction to his step.  
"But I didn't come here to insult your intelligence which is all too easy and too much of a time consumer."  
I glanced back at him, his hands again folded and the smile back to his lips like we were having a pleasant conversation that I kept interrupting.  
"Then why? Needed an ego boost that calling yourself "Dick" couldn't cover?"  
His smile faltered somewhat and I felt a momentary flare of arrogance at my small victory.  
"No, I just liked his hair style. Now Katherine there is a Charity Ball coming up that I need to attend. About otters or whales or something else delicious. And it appears that I am in lack of a date ..."  
I froze, suddenly feeling cold all over and like I wasn't hearing him properly and somehow misheard the hint.  
"Try Craiglist."  
My voice shook slightly as I said it, knowing that I was only putting off his suggestion a couple seconds and that he had really made up his mind and was sticking to it. He grinned, taking momentary note of my "joke" and finding amusement in it.  
"I was thinking a little more personal than that, Katherine. Now I've always been a hit with the ladies so I can only imagine how exciting this must be for you. An honour. I can only imagine your response."  
He was teasing me. Cutting open my skin and crawling underneath it as he pressed me into saying no and already knowing how to respond to it when I did.  
"Take the bitch you made to look like me. I'm sure she'd love to go with you."  
He blinked. He hadn't been expecting that answer.  
"Well I'll admit I didn't expect you to say that. But that's what I like about you Katherine. You're unpredictable. You fake right then move left. You think one thing then act on the other. It makes things interesting. As for Rebecca she may have your looks and your biting wit but she's missing the spark that makes you ... you. Hate to miss out on that. So ... what do you say?"  
He grinned again, not convinced that he changed my mind but assured that he backed me into a corner where he had an answer to each of my questions to back me back into it.  
"I'd rather die."  
It was a poor answer. It wouldn't stand against his logic but I wouldn't say yes. I would willingly wait in here and rot, making a weapon I would never get to use and patiently waiting until they took pity on me and let me die.  
"Alright that was a little snarky so how about this ... for every thirty minutes you refuse I bring a random stranger off the street and kill him in front of you."  
He smiled almost kindly, like he was discussing the weather or the sales of fruits and vegetables and I felt the impact of his threat in my stomach. Letting myself rot away and die was easy, wishing and seeing it inflicted on another was something that fell beyond my ability to do. My utter lack of care for myself pitted against my refusal to damn others to the same fate.  
"Excellent."  
He stood from where he leaned, satisfied enough with my silence to know that he didn't need an answer and broke my weakness and straightening his jacket.  
"I'll have Rebecca send up your dress."  
He turned towards the door before he faltered and stepped back and over to where I sat and leaned over to my side. I could almost feel the press of his jacket against my shoulder as he reached a hand underneath the bed and pulled out the two jagged pieces I had been using to make my weapon. He pulled back somewhat so his nose almost brushed mine as he stared at me and I stared back. I couldn't read his expression and I knew that he couldn't read mine. Whatever he was looking for, whatever he was expecting to find I wouldn't let him see. His eyebrows creased somewhat and I noted his minor defeat at being unable to figure out what I was thinking.  
"You shouldn't be playing with these. Might cut yourself."  
He re stood so he towered over me, turning the pieces over in his hands with partial interest.  
"Be unfortunate to stop your torture and treat you comfortably just for you to cut yourself on a shower rod."  
He turned his back to me, walking back to the door with my makeshift weapons still in his hands and his shoulders slumped somewhat like the air had been sucked out of them and no longer held him fully up.  
"Why?"  
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, my curiosity overcoming my need to not provoke him into conversation and given him what he wanted. He turned back somewhat, metal still jagged in his hands and knowing the end of my question without me needing to voice it.  
"For good behaviour."  
Like I was a dog who got a treat when they behaved and were good to their owner.  
"And because I thought it would be suspicious if my date went to the Charity starving and covered in cuts and bruises."  
Made sense. Might have preferred the torture though ...  
"And because I wanted you to be comfortable."  
That stopped me. The casual sound of it in voice like he actually cared. Like he wanted me to be comfortable. In good conditions. Despite the month long torture accompanied by starvation and daily soakings in salt water. The taking away of everything I loved and lived for. That he still considered something as petty as my comfort a priority. He smiled in what he probably considered warmth.  
"I'll pick you up at 7. Chop chop."  
I reluctantly stood, my legs protesting in the movement from sitting so long and turning back to the bed and trying to recall any details I had ever heard on how to prepare for formal occasions. Or occasions in general.  
"Try to make yourself look presentable."  
He continued and I glanced back over at him as he said it like he concocting another joke and was setting up to it with self pride and esteem.  
"But don't strain yourself."  
Ah the zinger. He grinned as he delivered the insult and turned back to the door, his shoulders again raised and stiff like nothing had caused them to deflate.  
"You don't strain ... yourself."  
I poorly attempted my insult against his as the door closed behind Dick and I heard him laughing outside and in the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Kind of surprised at the response but pleased all the same. I have at least two more chapters but the last one will be complicated because it features some scenes I'd have to cut from the bigger story and leads their story finished but hers open ended but for now here is one and enjoy!

I pulled uncomfortably at the jewel crusted bodice, the heaviness of it weighing against my skin and pressing through the fabric to leave oddly shaped imprints against my chest and stomach.  
Trust Dick to give me the most inconvenient dress possible.  
I glanced at the Leviathan leading me, his eyes forward and his steps set into an almost robotic pace with no thoughts passing back and forth in his eyes. None that I could read at first. It was unsettling really, being unable to read him like I had grown so accustomed to in people. But then again I might not have wanted to know what he was thinking.  
I pushed open the door, a cold breeze instantly chasing goose bumps up my arms and closed it pointedly behind me so that he walked into it, smirking slightly as he was forced to push it open after me.  
I hugged my arms to my chest, kicking at the ruffled folds of my skirt and already missing my worn jeans that were nearly tearing at the knees. I didn't know how to function in a dress. Something about not tripping and too much space beneath the skirts.  
Dick looked up from where he was standing by the limo, his hands neatly folded over the crisp lines of his suit, his hair neatly slicked back with a seemingly careless spike of hair broken over his forehead. He blinked rapidly when he saw me as if his vision suddenly went blurry and he was trying to re focus.  
"Well wonders will never cease you look half decent."  
He smirked as he said it, his eyes less cold then the usually were and yet enough to leave a frigid impact.  
"Too bad the same courtesy didn't apply to you."  
I rubbed at my arms as I said it, the grating feel of my jewelled bust rough against my arms in the movement and allowing it little give to make the move comfortable. He laughed somewhat, dryly amused as he pulled at his cuff links and glanced at the Leviathan who had walked me, now standing statue like still behind me with his arms folded and gaze unflinching forward.  
"Isn't he something?"  
Dick shook his head slightly in disbelief, no indication to what I could possibly be as being good or bad. The Leviathan stood quiet, either sensing it was a rhetorical question or being mute and thus explaining his lack of conversation.  
"But enough flirting the ball has started and we must be back before Katherine turns back into a pumpkin."  
He opened the door with flourish and held it for me, hand outstretched as if to help me inside but I ignored it and stepped in myself, holding my skirts aside with one hand and uneasily moving into the low ceiling interior. Even with my short stature my head touched the roof and grazed it as I tried to slide further inside. Dick stooped in behind me, stepping on my skirt and causing me to trip on the jerked motion and barely regain my footing to sit. He smirked as he sat down next to me, closing the door and with the obvious sense of accomplishment that he did it on purpose.  
"It's the carriage."  
He glanced at me, confused before looking around the enclosed place as if what I meant was helpfully written on the walls.  
"It's the carriage that turns back into a pumpkin. Not me."  
His lips parted somewhat in non vocal understanding, nodding and filing away the information as if somewhere down the line it would become key to his plans of world domination. Who knows stranger things had happened.  
"Clearly your understanding of fairy tales is higher than mine though considering your intelligence it might be the highest you can hope to reach in terms of reading."  
He rapped his knuckles against the roof and the limo jerked somewhat into motion and I could feel the steady hum of it under my feet. I straightened my skirts over my legs, the hardness of the bodice digging into my middle with its unfortunate accessory to give with some comfort and took in my surroundings for the first time. I had never been in a limo before and at second glance it was very spacious though the ceiling was still low. It had leather seats along each of the walls and to the side a wicker cabinet with glasses melded into the top and napkins ornately folded inside. A panel of buttons ran along the roof by the door and it was a mild struggle not to press each one to see what they did.  
"First time in a limo?"  
I glanced over at him, an amused smile on his lips as he took in my near childlike curiosity with interest, his hands again folded as if it was his go to pose.  
"No, I've never really had occasion."  
I squinted through the tinted windows, the blurred shapes of cars and people passing almost indiscernible through them and reminding me that we were in motion.  
"So you and tweedledee and tweedledum never travelled and style."  
I felt myself pause, understanding the meaning beneath the insult and tasting bitterness hot and sickening on my tongue.  
"I think you overestimate the pay of a hunter."  
Which was essentially volunteer work with no dental plan.  
"It's understandable. Me taking the shape of the richest man in American is bound to give me some warped sense of the American income."  
He reached for the cabinet and slid open the cover to reveal an array of wine bottles carefully held inside and selected one carefully, unscrewing the lid and pouring himself a generous amount with no tremor to the action to suggest he might spill at the slightest bump or unfortunate movement. He sat back in his seat comfortably and took a deep sip, his Adams apple bobbing over his tightly wound tie.  
"That may impress the whores you frequent but it doesn't impress me."  
He lowered his glass and turned to stare at me, whatever thought or move to his eyes quiet and observing me with an almost understanding that made me want to cringe.  
"I know. Woman like you wouldn't be interested in money, especially considering your romantic partners suggesting your low standards."  
He sipped again, certain he got the last word and almost smirking around the wine glass rim.  
"It's not like your standards are so high either, needing to find woman that would only sleep with you on pay."  
He lowered his glass again, pursing his lips in a subtle way of wiping them clean and thought on what I said for a moment.  
"I'm a busy man. I don't have time to make emotional connections. Besides when things go as planned they'll all be dead and my efforts a waste. And I'm not a wasteful man. Everything has a purpose. Everything is according to a plan."  
He turned to me, a hidden meaning to his words I couldn't catch and frustrating me that I couldn't just read him and figure out what he was thinking and be left without the exasperation of not being able to see how he ticked and thus how to take him apart.  
"And bringing me tonight? What plan is that a part of?"  
My curiosity was peaked and he again smirked like he knew it would be and leaving me angry that he seemed to know more about the pieces of me then I knew about the whole of him.  
"Patience young Yoda, all will be revealed in due time."  
He set the glass down and straightened his jacket, hands again calmly and annoyingly clasped.  
"It's Padawan."  
He barely turned to me before looking back, a barely disguised roll to his eyes.  
"So what's the ball for?"  
I slid down further in my seat, taking a deep breath that pressed nearly painfully against the bodice, the jewels standing out on it and rubbing irritatingly against my arms.  
"Some children's charity. Losing weight or getting smarter or stopping people from having them altogether I really couldn't be bothered to note."  
He adjusted his cuff links again, jerking them straight and folding them again which made them crease and seem like the action was futile all together.  
"You take an interest in your work I'm flattered."  
Sarcasm dripped off my tongue and I teased biting at my nails, my fingers tracing along my lips as I stared out the window at the steadily growing darkness of the street.  
"You shouldn't bite your nails. It's a disgusting habit."  
Despite myself I lowered my fingers and examined their tips, the nails short to the quick not jagged like I bit them often but enough that they didn't get in the way or become unnecessary when I cared little about their state.  
"Says the man who eats people."  
I said it dryly, leaning my head against my wrist and staring out the window again, only partially caring for a response.  
"Eating people can be quite sanitary if done right. Wash them down, sprinkle them with spices, little savory and it's quite pleasant. We do have some standards when it comes to our food. Or at least I do."  
He said the last bit proudly as if a clean human to eat was a sense of pride and half hoping I would acknowledge and however begrudgedly congratulate him on it.  
"Good to know."  
The limo turned pointedly, going over a bump and slowly coming to a stop that jerked somewhat and made me hit the back seat hard.  
"What a ride."  
Dick said excitedly, pushing open the door and climbing out near eagerly and standing expectedly just outside the door. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, tiny fears of social conduct and my lack of understanding in them prickling along the inside of my thoughts, sliding across the seat with my skirts rustling against the leather and to the door. He held out his hand and I took it this time, not trusting myself to stand with too many skirts and shoes with heels to high for my comfort combined and he gripped it tightly to aid me as I stood on the gravel. His hands were soft, more suited for a man in an office then one planning world domination though even in that he kept them physically clean and he dropped it as I righted.  
The building loomed in front of me in glass and metal with bright lines glittered through each surface and numerous couples in suits and fancy dresses walking visible through the hallways and up the gravel path, one or two of them nodding and smiling at Dick with the barest hint of interest towards me. Probably just assuming I was another high class whore he hired for the night with orders to stay on my best behavior. It wasn't an entirely comforting thought.  
"Let's get this party started."  
Dick straightened his jacket and again his cuff links before holding out an arm to me, his elbow dangerously close to my breast and the hint painfully clear. An older couple walked by, acknowledging him with a smile and nod of the head before whispering to one another at the sight of me. I swallowed hard, feeling dizzy and linked my arm through his so my hand rested on his forearm. He smiled at the response – no matter how reluctant – and turned to walk up the path to the entrance, my skirts threatening to tangle around my legs and my arm caught between his and his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Sorry for taking so long to update I am really bad at keeping up with stories and usually just get the idea and forget to carry it on half way through. There will be some flashbacks coming up which will show how they first meet and how he "killed" her and how she ended up with him in the first place as well as one or two chapters after including one from the new season. Some parts are cut out to prevent spoilers to another story but hopefully through it all it still makes sense. Enjoy!

I half tripped over my skirt as we stepped to the top of the stairs, a small smile on Dick's lips at the acknowledgement of the embarrassment and the hint that he had something to do with it.  
"You know for an all fearing, millions of years old creature you really do have a childish sense of humor."  
I turned my head to murmur this into his shoulder, seeing no point to everyone else overhearing and possibly starting a confused panic that would most likely do more harm than good. Or who knows, maybe they'd think it was some kind of egotistical twisted role-play.  
"I'm a busy man, Kate; I need to find some simple pleasures in life. Pushing your buttons just happens to be one of them."  
He straightened his lapels as he said this, only a sharp muscle twitching in his jaw visually showing that he had spoken and from the neck up almost giving off the appearance of a disturbed wax figure.  
"Despite your name I highly doubt you could find or push my buttons."  
I pulled at the edge of my bodice again, the hardened design stitched to it pressing harshly into my stomach and breasts and most likely leaving ugly lines. Oh well, if I died here tonight at least there would be some raised eyebrows over my corpse. Dick smiled next to me, the corner of his lips pulled into a smile even his vessel didn't seem accustomed to and from the side almost giving him the look of someone half friendly.  
"I always liked a challenge."  
He turned to me on his words and winked, adjusting my arm through his and how it lay over the creases of his sleeve and to his side. I rolled my eyes, reminded suddenly of Dean and the years of practice I had brushing off his flirtations and swallowed hard on the thought, the bright lights suddenly much brighter and harder to see through.  
"Show time."  
He adjusted his lapels one last time – though there was no foreseeable improvement – and stepped onto the staircase, leading me down with him. I concentrated on my footprints, my skirts rustling loud to my ears behind me and a minor reminder that no matter how closely they had guessed my size it was a little too long. Though if they had gone any shorter they would have ended up in the children's section and considering those options I think I would make do. Several people looked up as we walked down, obviously recognizing Dick with a raise of their glasses while barely glancing at me to acknowledge that I was beside him.  
"Ah, here we are."  
He declared it like the staircase had been a precarious journey and we were finally on safer ground, snapping down on his lapels and surveyed the crowd like they were all main course entrees dressed up to his bidding and that he liked what he saw.  
"Delicious aren't they?"  
His upper lip curled in his attempt at a smile and hunger glinted sharply in his eyes, the look out of place in his tailored suit and awkward tilt of his bow tie that was not subjected to the same OCD abuse as his jacket.  
"Can't really say. We do have different diets after all."  
He chuckled, head tilted back and his bow tie disrupted over his Adam's apple to press its edge to his jacket and blend the two in colour.  
"Still. Fattening up you Americans and marching you off to the slaughterhouse. It's almost too easy. You almost do it yourselves with your love of fast food and unhealthy obsession with guns. If it wasn't for how sad it really is I might like the lot of you."  
He nodded at various couples as he said this, welcoming them while he plotted their deaths with an irritatingly smile and tug at his cuff so the pressed linen of it snapped somewhat and covered the bone protruded at his wrist.  
"Please, you flatter us."  
I said it dryly, scanning the crowd of couples young and old who all seemed to know one another and gathered together in groups with thoughts of boredom, annoyance, irritation and in rare cases almost genuine interest pressed together and clustered at the edge of my thoughts in a headache I had long ago gotten used to and almost missed during my time around creatures I couldn't read.  
"Champagne?"  
A heavily tailored waiter bowed slightly as he held out the tray to us, several thin glasses of champagne randomly placed upon it and the bubbles clearly gathered at the bottom. Great, out of all the waiters we could have been greeted by this one didn't have food.  
"Please."  
Dick smirked and slid his arm out from under his, blood rushing painfully back into it and the creases of his sleeve briefly imprinted onto my skin as he took two glasses off the tray and held one close to his chest while holding out the other one to me. The light caught off the rim of it briefly and glinted creepily in his eyes as I took it from him, fingers briefly touching his and a cold shudder running under my skin as they did.  
"To your friend Castiel. Who made all of this possible. Cheers!"  
He raised his glass to toast and drank deeply, Adams apple bobbing as he did and eyes taking in the rest of the crowd with the glint again returned to his eyes and making the room seem cold. I held the glass to my chest; the jewels on the bust grinding against it and making me grit my teeth only partially from the sound. He lowered his glass now half empty, tightening his jaw and curling his lip in satisfaction before turning to see that my glass was still full and too all appearances untouched.  
"I've made you uncomfortable."  
He guessed this with no apology to the fact, gesturing his glass as if expecting someone to take the hint and refill it for him. To my petty satisfaction no one did.  
"No more than usual."  
He laughed, amused by my matter of fact tone and brought his glass back into his chest, taking the hint that no one was going to come and fill it for him. I raised my own glass to my lips and carefully sipped the taste sour on my tongue and bubbly going down my throat and reminding me why I found beer the finer drink. Nevertheless I took another sip, mildly gloating that my drink was still fill while his was empty and unattended.  
"So what's the story? Am I a co worker? Date? Sister?"  
I filled the silence, the champagne making me feel somewhat giddy and light as air which considering my small size wasn't much of a stretch.  
"Co worker. I'm too good looking to be considered a relative."  
He held out his glass as a waiter finally took his hint and took it from him, replacing it with one already full and bowing slightly as he carried on past, tray held high in one hand and his moves almost dancer like as he manoeuvred his way through the oblivious crowd. Where'd they find these guys?  
"Dance with me."  
I started somewhat, turning to raise my eyebrows at him as he smiled back in what he probably thought was an encouraging look but deep down made me feel like gagging.  
"No."  
I turned away from him and sipped my champagne again, distracting myself and the fact that he was still looking at me like he thought it was endearing that he thought I had a choice.  
"Aw come on, just one dance. I'm very good."  
He winked on his last words, clearly enjoying the double entendre behind them and again sipping from his glass, eyes still trained on me and the pressure of them dizzying.  
"No."  
I dragged out the one syllable word patronizingly and he sighed in mock irritation, a plan already in mind to convince me but for unknown reasons deciding to tease me and get on both of our nerves.  
"Alright, we played it your way now my turn. Pick out your favorite guest and I will have them dragged to the nearest ally and served as a tasty entree before dinner later this evening."  
He smirked, not even needing to glance my way to know that he won and satisfied with this knowledge that he managed another sip of his champagne, this second glass already becoming dangerously low.  
"You know you can catch more flies with honey then vinegar, right?"  
He turned to me on my words, intrigued by the phrase and curling his lip to swallow back what remained of his sip. I returned his gaze, holding it and feeling cold at doing so but refusing to look away first. Realizing this a smile stretched over his lips and gave a away a glimpse of his teeth that looked inhuman and too human all at once.  
"But I've already caught you."  
He said it softly, not a tease or a manipulation but a state of fact that crushed me under the weight of the last few months and every moment of it. No matter my moments of "defiance" or refusal to spill details he knew I wouldn't he had me and any escape I attempted or succeeded in I would always end up back here with him. And I hated him for it.  
"Waiter"

He called out to the nearest waiter to us and placed his half empty glass onto it before waiting on me to do the same. I ignored the subtly of the suggestion and raised it once more to my lips and tipped back my head, gulping down the last of the champagne until my head went light and I could feel the bubbles popping in my stomach. I lowered it finally, breathless and set the now empty glass onto the tray with my reach now unsteady. No difference, I wasn't doing this sober.  
"Shall we?"  
Dick held out a hand to me as the waiter bowed and walked away, tray held high and I let him take it, fingers clenched over mine in a grip I knew I wouldn't be able to easily pry myself free from. He led me past the other couples, nodding in their direction in greeting as I attempted to stay steady, the one gulp finish of my drink now seeming like a bad idea. He stepped on the area cleared for dancing, several couples moving across it in moves that I already knew I had no idea how to attempt before he held me taut from him for a moment before spinning me in close and to his chest. Everything spin uneasily and I felt my hand clasped in his to his shoulder, fingers laced uncomfortably before I managed to barely pry myself from him and unloosen my fingers from his. He smirked down at me, the height difference more noticeable this close as he locked his fingers again through mine and held them inches away at the side, the pressure numbing down my arm and pounding in my breast. I moved my fingers up his sleeve and gripped his shoulder, holding eye contact with him that I had no thought to drop first as he slid his hand shiver inducing slow down my back and to the small of it, fingers digging in close to press me up against him as he started to lead me across the dance floor.


	5. Note (Not a chapter but please read)

Note

I would like to apologize for taking so long to post in between chapters but I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing and I need to be in a certain space of mind to write.

I have written a very short chapter that is about the first time they actually meet. It is very short and not very good but it focuses on the first unofficial meeting and is referenced later so it may be of use. Plus there are so few scenes that I can actually use of their relationship so everyone counts. So ... if enough people want it I can do a thorough edit and get it up either today or tomorrow but if people want to wait a bit longer for a continuation of the dance scene that is fine too.

Second this is a "spin off" of my main Supernatural fanfiction that I have started (but not finished) because I enjoyed the relationship so much and didn't want to wait until I had written up to the seventh season to write and explore it. If you want to know more about the character and her background it is listed under one of my fanfictions as simply "Supernatural." Some minor details will be changed but it does give you a glimpse into who she is and her relationship with Sam and Dean if you're tired of waiting. It's also why I haven't elaborated that much on that story in this one to prevent spoilers.

Third: The best song I can find to sum up their relationship is "Dark Paradise" by Lana Del Rey and similarities aside it is a very good song so be sure to give that a listen to.

Fourth: Thank you so much for all the views and reviews and alerts my writing is a huge part of who I am and that people are not only reading it but enjoy it is a huge thing for me. I am so sorry for the delays but really only want to give you guys the best so if I could give you two chapters a day I would. But again thank you so so much it means so much to mean me and I really appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: From the bottom of my heart I apologize for the delay. The last few months have been crazy (and even this week I started medication for my anxiety) and I have tried writing this chapter many times but never got far and always ended up throwing it away in frustration. It wasn't until tonight that I sat down and made myself write no matter how bad it was that I finally got it to work. My other chapters are usually about five pages in length but this one is a lot shorter in part because I like where it ended and didn't want to follow up until another chapter and because my inspiration fizzled at the closing line. Hopefully everyone enjoys it nonetheless and with the hopes that the next one will be written a lot quicker now that I have picked up the rhythm again and know exactly how the scene will play out. For all those that reviewed and favorite and followed and waited thank you so much I really appreciate it and it's what got me up on my laptop so many times trying to write knowing that I'd having something new to give you. Also for those wondering what the dress looks like that Kate is wearing I posted a link on my profile. Just right click and it should open in a new tab. Enjoy!

Sorry for the frequent posts and take downs. was having an issue with new chapters and I thought it was my problem and was trying to fix it so you guys could see but they say it's fixed now so hopefully this time you'll be able to see it and I can keep it up.

And to the Guest who found her annoying but liked reading about Dick ... um, thanks?

"You're not a bad dancer."  
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, finally dropping them and turning to his sleeve and taking in the other dancers with far more superior dancing skills then I had. Of course they hadn't helped stop the apocalypse several times over so point me.  
"Your parents managed to teach you before they were killed?"  
I stumbled on the hem of my skirt and he caught the slip and out of the corner of my eye smirked, satisfied in his knowledge that it was an insult that hadn't gone unaffected. I cleared my throat and readjusted my grip on his sleeve, the folds twisted between my fingers.  
"What can I say, I'm naturally graceful."  
I said it between my teeth and he laughed, the sound of it sarcasm enough as he suddenly turned us again across the floor and my head spun in the movement in the perceived notion of sea sickness. The champagne was not a good idea.  
"What about you? They taught the waltz in purgatory?"  
He chuckled, the sound lower this time and in his throat so it sounded warm as opposed to touching his lips and turning cold.  
"I am a man of many talents Katherine. Dancing just happens to be one of them."  
I scoffed, my own personal sound of sarcasm.  
"And what other talents do you possess pray tell? Painting with water colours? Sewing? Synchronized swimming?"  
He laughed again, head tilted back slightly and Adams apple bobbed as if my attempts to irritate him were merely amusing and he allowed me the freedom only out of curiosity or boredom.  
"Nothing quite so trivial. Though I have an interest in the synchronized swimming I must confess. The thought of humans demonstrating such obscene movements – in water no less – fascinates me. You really are a peculiar race."  
He glanced down at me for approval on the thought that I did not give though I had to agree on the synchronized swimming thing. Well versed in exorcisms and grave robbing aside that was weird.  
"I'm going to spin you."  
He barely finished the warning before he let go with one arm and spun me hard with the other. For a panicked second everything blurred and swayed before he pulled me in again close to his chest and I struggled to steady myself, suddenly nauseous and dizzy and thinking how funny it would be if I threw up on him.  
"Now wasn't that fun?"  
I loosened myself up off him and returned my hand to his, the world slowly falling back into place and the nausea settling back in my stomach. Damn.  
"Considering you find destroying the human race a goal I'd fail to see how we have a similar sense of humor."  
His eyebrow cocked in interest at the thought and his head titled to the side and making his chin look pointed in the harsh fluorescent light.  
"And yet your goal matches mine in destroying my race. Call it whatever you want, Katherine but we both have genocide on the mind."  
I actually had cocktail weenies on the mind but point taken.  
"Leviathans want to kill humans. You're Leviathan, I'm human. It's only natural that we'd want to defend ourselves."  
And here I was talking ethics with a head monster named Dick. Even I surprised myself sometimes.  
"It's about survival, Katherine. Survival of the fittest. And whether you like it or Leviathan are the fittest. You've had your chance of King of the Hill and you've failed. Let someone else have a turn."  
Coldness turned over in my stomach at the half truth to his words but I didn't let it show, keeping my head bowed and following the pattern of the floor tiles.  
"I've upset you."  
He said it proudly, chin grazing the top of my head and the feel of his smirk bruising against my hair.  
"I don't care enough for you to upset me."  
I returned my look to his to prove my point and he stared at me for a moment, eyes searching and the hollowness still cold behind them. Slowly and almost they warmed and his smirk returned, his lips unfamiliar without it.  
"I've killed you. Killed your son. Your friend. I plan to kill your race and you don't care?"  
I kept my eyes to his, not breaking the look and holding it so it hurt everywhere but I didn't drop it. I wouldn't look away. Not now. Not from him.  
"Maybe it is such that I find you such a small and pitiful thing that I cannot bring myself to care."  
He stared at me for a moment as the words sunk in before he blinked, taken back and his smirk faltering and falling, his face foreign without it just as the satisfaction I now felt that my insult hadn't gone unaffected.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I didn't intend to get this written tonight but was having trouble with something else and tried working on this instead and here we are! This is the last chapter – I think – from the "current" timeline and will go back to when they first met, when he killed her, she came back and the beginning of her being held captive by him. Then it should go back to current and seeing where it goes from there. Hope you guys like it and of course enjoy!

I shivered, goose bumps under my skin and the diamonds of my dress sparkling slightly which didn't have anything to do with anything and would probably be better traded in for something warmer where now it was just past uncomfortable and digging ugly patterns into my skin.  
"You're quiet."  
I hadn't been talking much either but the fact that he hadn't been either was unsettling. Quiet meant thinking and thinking – especially with him – usually meant something bad was about to go down. I could handle the insults and the smirks – though those were sometimes just as quiet – but silence on someone else was something I wasn't practiced in.  
"I thought you didn't like when I talked."  
He tilted his head slightly when he said it, the light from the windows behind us sharpening his chin and making him look even more sinister in the light. The somewhat unbalanced bow tie still held off the true effect though and for that I was secretly grateful.  
"I don't. I don't like when you're quiet either."  
I was like a little kid listing down the reasons why I didn't like someone though mine were probably more damning then simply "he pulled my hair" or "made me eat glue."  
"So either way I win."  
He laughed slightly, perked up by the idea and getting back to his feet from the way I had knocked him down on the dance floor. The satisfaction from it had since faded and now I didn't know what to do with the silence when quietly hating him was harder to deal with then deflecting his comments and doing something no matter how minimal about them.  
"In theory. But then there's just ignoring you and that works pretty well."  
And I was back to being the little kid again. Though he wasn't much better at times. We were two brats from kindergarten with bigger things at stake slapping at each other and occasionally pulling hair though it wasn't fair because mine was longer and his presumably greasy.  
"It could. But then again I could throw you back into the dungeon and torture you until you are in bloody pieces and that would also work pretty well."  
He glanced at me as he said it, waiting for my reaction that I didn't give and staring straight ahead myself and telling myself that the goose bumps were just the cold.  
"By all means."  
I welcomed it, hopefully calling his bluff and digging my fingernails into my palm and waiting for him to call me on mine and drag me back by my hair to the stone cell and bloody tools that I had begun to recognize by how deeply they cut and the sound I made when they did.  
"You're cold."  
This time I looked at him, eyebrows raised and confused that he had changed the topic so easily and going from the prospect of my torture right to the concern of my well being.  
"Yeah. So?"  
He stopped walking and shrugged off his jacket so it dropped to his wrists and then pulling it off entirely and swinging it over my shoulders. I tensed as he tucked it over them and draping it over my front so that the sides folded over each other and I was suddenly standing in the cold wearing Dick Roman's coat while he tucked it in so that it fit me better.  
"Better?"  
He raised his eyes to mine despite being taller than me and usually it being me the one to look up but this time his head had been bowed and calculating as if he had been working on something of such great importance and wanted to make sure it was done right.  
"Yes."  
It was heavy and it smelled faintly of cologne and it made my skin crawl knowing that he had been wearing it and all he had and was going to do but it was warm. And I hated myself but I didn't take it off.  
"You could say thank you."  
All insults and business again he continued walking, pulling at the cuffs of his dress shirt now that his previously focus had been replaced and his shoes crunching on the sidewalk in the absence of the sound of my own. I stumbled slightly to catch up, my ankles hurting in the high heels and the last remaining sips of champagne making it even more precarious then just on high heels alone.  
"You could not eat the human race."  
He threw back his head and laughed, teeth glinting in the light and for a second looking pointed but the second fading and reminding me that as terrifying as it was he still looked human and fit in just as easily as everyone else.  
"But then what would I do with myself? Start golf? Get fat? It's the American dream but it's not my dream."  
I couldn't actually think of any one – American or not – who had the dream of getting fat but who was I to question the logic?  
"But you would know that wouldn't you?"  
He snuck a glance at me, smirk returned and his eyes sharp with it. I feigned ignorance, pulling at the cuff of the jacket and stopping halfway through exactly mimicking his actions.  
"That you can't play golf? Honestly I had no idea."  
He turned away from me, tutting against his teeth in exaggerated disappointment that I didn't take my bait and forcing him to follow me in circles when it could have been easier to go the straight path.  
"My dream. My plan. What we Leviathans plan to do when we take over America. You read the files on my desk before you shot me ... and then in poetry I shot you back."  
Not exactly poetry when twelve shots couldn't hurt him and one took me down but I couldn't argue everything.  
"I did. It's a little sloppy I must admit for someone who has such a high opinion of themselves."  
He chuckled, the corner of his lips turning up and the sound low in his throat like a balance between a growl and what he defined as a laugh.  
"I don't recall asking your opinion."  
He hadn't but he wanted it anyway. No matter how much easier the straight line was he would indulge me and walk in the circle. As little as I knew about him I knew that much.  
"True but you wanted it anyway."  
He glanced my way, smile faded and what was left of it uncertain that I had actually guessed correct and not only that but admitted it out loud. Two correct shots in one night. Either I was getting better at this or he was losing his touch.  
"I couldn't care less about your opinion. Give it or keep it to yourself then effect remains the same that there is nothing you can do about it."  
The confidence returned to his words but his smirk hadn't returned though I say his lip almost turn up as if trying it on for size before attempting it where he thought I could see.  
"I wouldn't sell me short. I have brought down Lucifer."  
He grinned, confidence returned and the same chuckle almost always under his words and annoying in how undecided it was in whether it was welcoming or menacing.  
"I pride myself on being harder to kill then Lucifer. Besides you didn't bring him down alone of course. Without Sam or Dean around you're pretty much useless."  
I ground my fingernails into the jacket, forcibly not thinking about them and failing in the attempt so all I could taste was their name on my lips and bitter it tasted like tears and blood.  
"If that's true then why keep me around?"  
And to the heart of the problem. The question that had nagged me for nearly three months and always in the back of my thoughts when I wasn't blinded by pain or grief or boredom. Why keep me around when he had already proved how easy it was to kill me and have it done with – though with the slight problem of how and why I had been brought back.  
He didn't say anything.  
I waited, glancing at him as we walked and him staring straight ahead and silent, muscle working in his jaw as if turning over the words he could have said and yet not saying any of them. Fine. Two could play at that game. I pulled my skirts farther away from my legs and kicking at them slightly, fantasising about when I could finally take it off and maybe being allowed to rip it in a few dozen places before doing so. The shoes too.  
"Ah, Edgar."  
I jumped inside my skin slightly and looked up as the Leviathan who led me downstairs suddenly stood in front of us, stiff and proper with his hands folded behind his back. Did they all stand like this or was it some kind of fall back they used when Dick was around?  
"Edgar will be taking you back to your room."  
He turned to me as he said it suddenly all formal and no insults, sounding and looking for a moment like a butler that I was supposed to tip and tempting me though I didn't have any cash – unless he had some in one of his pockets.  
"Cool."  
Not thank you. Not tonight was lovely and I had a wonderful time or even good luck with your world domination I hope it works out for you. I could be formal too.  
"Any more questions?"  
He folded his hands in front of him, hair falling over one eye and something too natural and out of place about it that made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach and wanting to crawl back into my bed and have the day over and done with.  
"No."  
None that he would answer. None that I would ask.  
"Good. Sleep well."  
He turned and walked away, shoes loud again on the sidewalk and Edgar impatiently waiting for me to follow and a look in his eyes like he would force me to it if I did not obey. I started to walk after him, ankles aching in the straps and tempting me to strip them off and walk back barefoot.  
"What happens to me?"  
I asked it before I could turn around, before I could actually think that I was going to say it but turning anyway and stopping so I could hear his answer and half hoping it wouldn't. He stopped and half turned, delayed in hearing me and looking darker with the light around him and so that I couldn't see his face.  
"When you take over the world? What happens to me?"  
I hated the human curiosity but I wanted to know. If he was going to eat the human race when not start with me? Why waste the time and the insults and the dress and the torture when killing and burying me was so much easier said and done when I had been over it already half a dozen times.  
"Keep you alive. Maybe get you a bigger room. Some outside privileges if you behave yourself."  
He shrugged as he finished, not caring too much about the details and not thinking too much of what it meant overall. I waited for him to finish, the part that came next of my planned demise and how it would come last so that I could suffer through all the others and wouldn't feel special at having picked first. But he didn't. He nodded, part done and question answered and turned back to the doors leading to the party and not thinking twice about what he said.  
"Why?"  
Again that same curiosity. And the same hatred that encouraged it. He turned fully this time, not bothered by that I had asked but curious himself as to why.  
"You kill the human race but you leave me alive. Why?"  
To torture me. To make me suffer. To lock me up inside until I went insane and he could amuse himself until it lost humor and fun and he would killed me like everyone else. I waited, braced for the answer and determined that I would face it with a quip or nonchalance when he did. His lip twitched somewhat and for a moment it looked like he would smile but that he didn't know how to make it warm and so that it appeared bittersweet.  
"I guess you're an exception."  
A breeze kicked at my skirts and dragged them across the sidewalk and I stared at him, unable to even wait for what came next but thinking that there had to be something. I had become too learned at this. Too practiced, too patient with every insult he had and every smirk and motive that went beneath it. He couldn't surprise me anymore. We had gotten past that point and now endured each other because for some reason he had kept me alive and for some reason I hadn't given up. The smile faded on his lips slightly, confidence gone and looking uncertain and startled by it and waiting for the insult that I knew had to follow. But it didn't. He nodded slightly, confirming to himself and me that he had said what he said and the smile now gone and leaving him looking shaken. For the first time unsure of himself. For the first time not knowing where he stood and what came next. He turned and walked away and I stood there watching him, wind stronger now tugging at his jacket and my hair and watching him go.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I'm back! Kind of. I kind of lost faith in going through with the story for a while because of the sudden drop in interest but after spending too much time on another story I decided to come back to this one and see what came out. For those a little confused by the events this is a flashback to when Dick and Kate first met and follows the events of the episode: How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters. It fills in some of the missing pieces of how they met as well as answering the question of how and when he killed her and what she meant when she said that he killed her son. Enjoy!

Someone was talking. Paper was rustling. And underneath it all my head was killing me. I tried to open my eyes but they felt sanded and grated and I could only see a sliver of movement that didn't tell me much and was even less helpful.  
"Outstanding!"  
A man's voice. And vaguely familiar. I tried to think of where I'd heard it before but my head was still pounding so my thoughts felt swollen and like they cut one another to form. More rustling. Footsteps. A click of fingers. And a door closing.  
"I know you're awake."  
The voice came again and I managed to get my eyes slightly more open than last time and squinted to see a man seated behind a desk with a series of envelopes in his hands and sorting through them. He raised his head on a tilt to look at me and smiled. Or at least attempted it. It came off crooked and cold with a glint more sinister then warm.  
"And no – as appealing as the thought of putting you in handcuffs is – you're not tied up."  
He turned back to the envelopes and sorting through them as if it was a competition between which one was more interesting to hold his interest and I had lost the coin toss. I flexed my arms on the arm rests to find them stiff but not bound and that my legs were given the same curtsey. I quickly scanned the room as my eyesight got clearer and taking in the window along the side of one wall and a door behind me in my peripheral vision.  
"I wouldn't recommend it. You can't get past me. But where are my manners? Your head must be killing you, Katherine. Would you like an Advil?"  
I returned my attention to him as he started opening the envelopes he had been holding and barely glancing at me with presumed manners that he'd even bothered. I gritted my teeth.  
"It's Kate."  
He laughed as if I were a child and making wild assumptions that he knew was wrong.  
"But I prefer Katherine."  
He grinned smugly at me as if that was that and the discussion was done and over.  
"And I'd prefer your head bloody on a spike."  
He sucked in his breath with an approving head nod.  
"Feisty. I like it."  
I slid down further in the chair and adjusting myself on the cushion. If I was going to be stuck here I might as well get comfortable.  
"So tell me Katherine how many boyfriends do you have watching the building?"  
He stood up as he asked it to open a brief case on top of his papers and riffling through it so I could catch the glimpse of a gun before he pulled it out and started loading it.  
"None."  
He scoffed under his breath, bullets dark in his hands..  
"Aw come on Katherine we've all heard about your sordid love triangle with Sam and Dean. Why have one when you can have both, right? After all it is slim pickings out there with the obvious exception."  
He flared his hands theatrically as if to indicate himself and I took a not so subtle look around as if looking for who he meant.  
"Now ..."  
He clicked his brief case shut and walked around to the front of the desk before sitting casually on the corner of it like I wasn't a hostage and he didn't have a gun loaded and itching to use it.  
"What am I going to do with you?"

He asked the question thoughtfully while resting the barrel of the gun to his temple so the threat was obvious as was the amused smile he accompanied with it. I waited, tapping my foot lightly to the carpet and to all appearances bored and waiting for him to get it over with.  
"We could play scrabble. Though I have to admit I play a mean game."  
His grinned widened to show off his teeth and the presumed warmth of it not touching his eyes which remained cold and glinting. Almost sharp.  
"You play scrabble?"  
I couldn't help the question, eyebrows raised and curiosity not going unnoticed.  
"I do. One of your finer inventions though it is a short list with a great deal of otherwise failures."  
He lowered the gun with the taunt, finding it enough to keep me in my place and resting his arms easily over his knees as if waiting for my retaliation and no doubt ready for his own.  
"True. But failures aside we weren't imprisoned by our father for being bad so I think that evens us out."  
I smiled pleasantly and something twitched behind his eyes that made the smile falter on his lips. He attempted a laugh but it fell short before it could be considered one and instead a cold sound in his throat. He moved before I could react and was kneeling in front of me, grabbing me by the ankle and jerking me forward so that only my quick grip on the edge of the chair kept me from crashing into him but our faces still only inches apart.  
"You shouldn't slouch. It'll ruin your posture."  
His eyes were boring in mine and I was unable to look away from how dark they were. I couldn't read anything from him. No emotion, no thoughts. Just an ooze of black snot shoved into a moderately handsome man and determined dangerous.  
"I don't take advice from men named Dick."  
I said it between my teeth and that grin was back, wider and more honest this time like I was a play thing he enjoyed toying with and served minimal amusement.  
"Let's people know what I'm all about."  
I didn't laugh though I sensed that he wanted too and instead looked over his face and shoulders for something – anything – that I could use as a weakness but nothing standing out as a suggestion.  
"As enjoyable as I find your company – which isn't much – I have more important things to attend to. Killing those Winchesters for example. But don't worry I'll be back and then I'll deal with you then."  
He stood up and patted me condescendingly on the head before walking past me and to the door, shoes muffled by the carpet then echoing on the floor.  
"Don't wait up."  
And the door closed behind him.  
The gun went off in my hand. Once. Twice. Three times. Black blood oozed down his back and as he turned I grabbed the pipe resting closest to me by a shelf and swung it at his head as hard as I could. He doubled over for a moment, his skin sizzling from the borax Sam had sprayed him with.  
"Well that wasn't very nice."  
He restood with a playfully hurt expression and I raised the gun again to shoot him between the eyes and not even caring that it wouldn't kill him as long as it hurt.  
"Katie! Duck!"  
I hit the ground hard as Dean came up behind me and throwing the last of his borax onto Dick's back so he cried out in pain and crumbled, skin smoking.  
"Go!"  
I couldn't tell who said it but I was running and dodging between the shelves as another Leviathan stepped in front of me with his arms outstretched like it was a game of tag and he was it. I scrambled for a wrench on one of the unopened boxes and swung it at his head as hard as I could so it made a sickening crunch and stuck. I shoved him as I passed before hitting the exit door and shooting through and into the cold night air.  
"Kate! Come on!"  
The van was waiting parked in front with Sam and Dean in the front and Bobby half way outside of the door to catch me and pull me inside. I made a half running leap through the opening and turned to close it behind me. Dick was already out the exit, gun raised and pointed toward us with his aim settled on Bobby beside me. No! I hit him back and to the ground as the door swung and pain exploded in my stomach. There was sound. A lot of it and it threw me back so I hit the rolling floor and heard more than felt its impact. There were lights flashing overhead my vision and I could taste the blood on my tongue as it soaked between my fingers and my vision started going black. I heard someone calling my name and scrambled to hold my stomach together as one thought came through everything else: the baby. And then everything went dark.


End file.
